"I --"
"You thought I was just a pretty face? A piece of meat, right?" he asks me with a smile, grabbing me by the arms and turning me around. He takes one step forward, pinning me between the bookcase and his body. I hold my breath then, my eyes wandering down to his lips. Just kiss me already, I think to myself, but he just holds his position. Finally, he starts leaning in, but he stops just before his lips touch mine. He lets go of me and turns around, leaving me short of breath against the bookcase.
"That’s what you want people to think," I breathe out, taking one step toward him. "I mean, it’s not like you act like a cultured human being. You just fuck your way into problems."
Turning to me, he just grins and shrugs. "Geniuses are tortured souls, aren’t they? Most of them like to drown themselves in alcohol … I just drown myself in pussy. It’s healthier."
"You’re so full of yourself. I bet you’re all talk," I find the courage to grin back at him, and then I just take another step toward him. He closes the distance between us, and I stop dead in my tracks.
"Don’t act like you’re the main character in a book. This isn’t a book," Aidan whispers, the corner of his lips curling into a mischievous smile.
"It isn’t," I repeat, my chest rising and falling, as I start to breath hard. My heart is pounding so hard that I can barely hear Aidan’s voice. This isn’t a book, no—this is something far better.
"And I’m real. Very, very real," he continues, taking his hand to my face and stroking my cheek with the back of his fingers. I close my eyes as I feel his touch, a burning sensation making its way from my heart to right between my thighs. Turning his hand around, he places one fingertip over my lips and then slides it over gently.
Taking his fingers off, he leans into me slowly, and my eyelids droop by instinct. I wait for the touch of his lips, but it doesn’t come right away; his mouth hovers over mine for a full second, and only then does he kiss me. His touch is soft and gentle, but when he finally parts his lips and runs his tongue over mine, I can feel a coiled hunger hiding in his movements.
"So…" I start, pulling back from him and gently pressing my forehead to his. "Are you going to show me how a real man should handle a woman?"
"Yes. But only if you can handle it," he teases me, his grin widening.
"I can handle everything," I shoot back, and he lays his hands on hips, curling his fingers as if they were hooks.
"We’ll see about that."
All it takes is a heartbeat; with his hands on my waist, he forces me to turn around and face the wall. Pinning me there with his body, I support myself by lifting my arms over my head. He takes one hand around my waist, and then lowers it until it’s right over my crotch; he presses it over my pussy, bunching the front of my dress, and I let out a sudden gasp.
"Pay attention," he whispers into my ear, his lips brushing against my skin as they move. "You might just become a better writer once we’re done." His deep voice makes its way toward my brain like a fast acting drug, and I can tell you that, right now, writing is the last thing on my mind.
"Show me," I say as I exhale sharply, and he presses harder on my pussy. I’m so wet that the fabric of my thong is completely drenched, and I feel my fluids starting to drip down my inner thighs. Flicking his wrist, he rubs my wetness with the tip of his fingers, and it doesn’t take long for my hard breathing to turn into a long sequence of soft moans.
Without a warning, he takes his hand out from between my legs. He moves up to my shoulders, grabbing at the straps of my dress; I lower my arms as he tugs on them, pulling my dress down until it’s all bunched up around my waist. Caressing the side of my body with his fingertips, he then traces the contour of my bra, his fingers sliding in a straight line over my shoulder blades until he finally finds what he’s looking for. He unhooks the clasp of my bra, and I sigh as I feel the cups drooping over my breasts, my nipples hardening and begging to be set free.
When he finally pulls the bra straps down my arms, my nipples are so hard they could cut through glass. Throwing my bra to the floor, he runs his hands up the side of my body once more, stretching his fingers wide and then cupping the lower curve of my tits. I close my eyes and chomp on my lower lip as he squeezes my soft mounds, the flesh molding to his fingers smoothly.
I press my forehead against the wall, breathing so hard that it feels like I’ve ran a marathon. There’s a pleasant buzz under my skin, waves of anticipation making my muscles tense up and readying my nerve endings for something new, wild, and exciting. We’ve barely started, and I can already tell that Aidan’s going to be one of the best fucks of my entire life.
There are some men—and they are a rare and dying breed—that can tell you how good they are wi
th just one kiss. Aidan’s one of these men; the moment his lips touched mine I felt a blend of patience and hunger in the way he kissed me, and I realized immediately that he knows what he’s doing. He’s experienced, and so he doesn’t feel a need to rush through things; but, at the same time, there’s that wild hunger inside of him, a desire to just let go of everything and act on his urges furiously.
"They’re smooth," he whispers, his fingers going over the curve of my breasts and brushing against my hard rosy tips. "I like that." He squeezes both my breasts, harder this time, and I let out another sudden gasp. He pinches my right nipple between his thumb and index finger, applying the exact pressure necessary to make a wet mess out of me. It’s hard to believe, but foreplay with Aidan is better than sex with most men; most of them just want to stick their cock inside of me and get off, Aidan actually takes the time to savor every inch of my body. To appreciate it, delighting himself with every perfect imperfection.
There’s something very sensual about it and, as stupid as it may sound, it’s also very romantic. But maybe that’s just my romantic tendencies acting out; if you take one hard look at Aidan, he seems like he was designed to be the God of Sex, instead of the God of Romance. But oh, these things usually go hand-in-hand, don’t they?
"You’re thinking," he tells me, pinching my nipple so hard that I cry out a bit. "You can’t think during sex," he continues, finally easing up the pressure. "That’s sin number one. You’ve gotta shut down that mind of yours, Abby…"
"How?" I ask, but his reply doesn’t come in the form of words. He just lets go of my breasts and takes one hand to between my thighs again, this time sliding it under my dress and pressing it right against my drenched thong.
"Like this," he whispers, and then flicks my thong to the side. I grit my teeth and shiver as he runs his index finger over the length of my pussy, his touch so soft and maddening that I can barely think straight. He was right; this really helps to shut down my conscious mind.
When his finger finally finds my clit, he starts circling it smoothly, and a subtle moan flies out from between my lips. Then, moving fast, he flattens the palm of his hand against my pussy. I let out another gasp and, as I do it, he parts my inner lips with one finger and starts pushing it in. Hissing through my gritted teeth, I feel my insides burning up as he pushes his finger all the way in.
Reaching for my clit with his thumb, he starts fingering me while rubbing there. I thrust back against him, eager to feel his body tightly pressed against mine, and my mind almost explodes as I feel his hard cock. Its shape fits right between my ass cheeks, and it’s even bigger than I imagined it would be. The moment I saw Aidan for the first time I realized immediately that he was special… When he kissed me, I finally had the proof. But now, feeling his monstrous cock pressed against my ass, I don’t even know how to start describing what I feel—and this coming from someone who describes things (cocks included) for a living.
I don’t have the time—or brainpower—to keep thinking about how huge his cock is. Aidan starts fingering me so fast that all conscious thought fades away. His thumb circles my clit at a frenetic rhythm, and I can already feel my pussy starting to tighten up around his index finger. Upping the ante, he slides one more finger inside of me and starts moving them both even faster. With my eyes still closed, I moan loud and hard, and then fireworks go off behind my shut eyelids.
"OH! It’s so --" I trail off, a high voltage current making the climb up my spine and striking my brain in a matter of milliseconds. With my forehead still pressed against the wall, I thrust back against him once more, a violent wave of pleasure crashing against me. So far he has only used his fingers, and he has already given me an orgasm so good that I doubt most men would be able to compete, even if they used their cocks, fingers and mouth all the same time. That’s how good Aidan is.